A Visitor
by emimprov
Summary: What did Vera mean when she said she had “seen the devil?” Did it have to do with that fateful meeting seven years ago? What happened that night? One shot. Major Apollo Justice spoilers!


**A Visitor**

What did Vera mean when she said she had "seen the devil?" Did it have to do with that fateful meeting seven years ago? What happened that night? One shot. (Major Apollo Justice spoilers!)

Author's Note: This is my first fic in a while - it's good to be back writing again. It might have something to do with the fact that the Gyakuten Saiban games are the first series of video games in a LONG while to really get me hooked enough to want to write fanfiction in the first place. What can I say…they are addicting. Anyway, comments are greatly appreciated, and I hope you enjoy my little insight into Case 4. Nothing too flashy, just my take on what might have transpired. Gracias! (Apologies in advance if some of the details are a bit off. I played this case a month ago, and it's kind of hard to get every little thing in order, so…sorry if some aspects of it are "tweaked.")

The clock was striking 11:00 PM, and the lights in the artist's studio still burned brightly.

Inside, Drew Misham ran his fingers through his wiry gray hair, squinting tiredly at the small girl in front of him. She clutched a round drawing pad to her chest, and she glanced up at him curiously. He had called her from her room where she had been painting with an urgency that startled her, and she stood waiting for whatever it was he wanted to tell her. She wondered if it had anything to do with his strange behavior lately; he was beginning to send out several letters a day and he was staying up until the early hours of the morning, sketching out plans and doodling on his canvas every now and then. But still he never painted anything, and she could not remember the last time anyone had ever paid them a visit. Ever since her mother had gone, it had just been the two of them in the small studio, trying to make ends meet any way they could.

That was when her father asked her to paint things other than landscapes and copies of other drawings that he received. She did not know how he got them or why, but she loved to paint and so did not question his actions. She was still only twelve years old, with little knowledge of the outside world. Quiet and shy, Vera Misham was completely at the whim of her father. And standing in front of him at that moment, she had a feeling that whatever he was about to ask of her carried a grave weight upon it indeed.

"Vera…I've received a letter in the mail from a…friend," Drew began, pulling a somewhat crumpled envelope from his jacket pocket. He turned it over in his hands as he talked, clearing his throat before going on. "A…new friend, I suppose you could say. He wants us to do some work, and…he wants to meet you. Tonight."

Vera blinked. "But Father…I've never…I don't like to meet new people. What if…what if your friend is…a bad person?"

"I can assure you he's not," Drew almost snapped. "I know this is hard for you to understand, but…we need the money, we really do, Vera…and he'll only agree to it if I let him talk to you first. And like I said, he's coming tonight."

"Is this really…that important?" Vera asked, her fingers going instinctively to her mouth. Her father had told her that biting her nails was a bad habit, but she could not help it, especially when faced with worrying and stressful situations. Nothing had happened yet, but her father's tone made her nervous, and this she did not like.

"Yes…it's not as if I WANT to do this…" Drew trailed off, unsure of how to continue. His daughter had a skill, and it hurt him deeply to use her in such a manner, but it was the only way he could bring in money to support their livelihood. The man had offered them a great deal of money for this "forgery" he discussed - it was a difficult choice, and Drew decided that what Vera didn't know wouldn't hurt her. It was not like this man would hold anything against them…after all, HE was coming to them for help.

"His name is Kristoph Gavin," continued the weary artist. "You can call him Mr. Gavin, and he'll be here any minute from now. Listen…" He knelt down and drew Vera into a tight embrace. "You know I wouldn't put you in any danger, Vera. You're my daughter and I love you." He let go of her and looked into her eyes, pleading.

Vera considered this, smiling weakly. She was nervous, but he had never given her a reason to doubt him. "Al…alright, Father. If it means that much to you."

"That's my girl," he said with a wide grin. "Just let me know what he tells you, okay? Then you can go back to drawing like before."

Vera nodded, happy at the opportunity to draw once more. Even though she did not enjoy her father's jumpy attitude during these strange "meetings" with customers, she trusted him and did the work with gusto. Anything to make him happy, though this occasion would be quite different to say the least.

"Did he say why he wanted to meet with me, Father?"

"I'm sure he just wants to get to know you…he's a friendly man, Vera. And isn't it nice to have clients who are friendly?"

"I…I suppose so." Vera flipped through her drawing pad, searching for a blank sheet. When she could not express her emotions easily, she usually sought out a fresh page to draw upon, pouring her feelings onto the white plane. She was about to touch pencil to paper when three knocks came at the door, startling both her and Drew.

"That'll be him," flustered Drew. He shuffled quickly to the door and pulled it open a crack to see who was outside. Vera watched from a distance; her father appeared to be talking to whoever was on the other side of the door in hushed tones, looking back at her every so often. A few seconds later, Drew gestured to her and she neared the door, eyes wide and doe-like, both nervous and a bit excited to see who her father was so anxious for her to meet.

When she reached her father's side, Drew looked down at her purposefully. Opening the door the rest of the way, Vera got her first look at the mysterious visitor. Dressed in a fancy blue suit, he cut an impressive figure even in the dim light of the studio. His sleek blonde hair tumbled down neatly to rest on his left shoulder, and his crossed arms reflected both self-confidence and a deep thoughtfulness. He wore a friendly, neutral expression that Vera could not read, but there was something charismatic about him – charismatic and possibly deceptive.

The man nodded, his eyes flashing for a brief moment behind his glasses. "Hello, Vera. I am Kristoph Gavin. Pleased to finally meet you."

Vera looked down. Now that she was finally confronted with this stranger, all confidence had left her. The man seemed nice enough at first glance, but…

Drew nudged her. "Vera. Mr. Gavin is talking to you."

Vera shook her head abruptly, deciding to chance it once more. "H-hello, Mr. Gavin." She shook his hand automatically, her hand returning limply to her side as soon as it was out of his grasp.

A silent gap followed this exchange, punctuated only by a rather audible cough from Kristoph. Drew responded immediately to this, patting Vera on the shoulder. "Oh…oh, right!" he spluttered awkwardly. "Well, Vera…I'm going to go put some tea on for now…I've got to work on that painting for tomorrow, of course, need to keep up my energy. Just come get me when you're off, Kristoph." With that, Drew scuttled into the kitchen, leaving both Vera and Kristoph in the doorway.

_Father never paints…especially not at this time of night_, thought Vera. Something suspicious was definitely going on, but she did not have time to ponder her father's behavior further. Kristoph had stepped inside, the same easy smile on his face. Vera backed up until she was sitting in one of the chairs in the middle of the studio, unsure of what else to say. Kristoph seemed unfazed by this, and he simply took the chair across from her, as if he dropped by every night like this for a chat.

"Drew…your father…tells me you like to draw," Kristoph said easily, smoothly. Vera was still not used to the strange presence in the studio, but she had to admit that his voice was soft, almost soothing. She nodded in response.

"What kinds of things have you been drawing lately, Vera?"

Vera pursed her lips, jerking her head towards several easels set up against the wall leading into the kitchen. There sat four vivid paintings all depicting action scenes from Vera's favorite magic act, the Troupe Gramarye. The fourth one was unfinished, but it was vibrantly detailed and seemed to show a trapeze act of some kind. Vera thought nothing of them – the Troupe Gramarye was simply something she enjoyed painting, for no one's benefit but her own. Outside of taking her to one of their shows years back, Drew had little knowledge of the Gramaryes, but they were nevertheless familiar and comforting to her, even if they were from the outside world.

"Ah…the Troupe Gramarye. Drew told me how much you loved them. Valant, Zak, and Thalassa…an excellent act indeed, especially that trick with the two golden guns."

Vera looked up at this, her eyes widening in pleasant surprise rather than apprehension. "You…you know about them? The Troupe Gramarye?"

Kristoph laughed. "Yes, in fact…I need your help for something involving that very same troupe. That is…if you're willing to lend me a hand, that is."

Kristoph's surprising knowledge of the Gramaryes had won Vera over, at least for now. She could not believe that another adult actually knew more about them than their name, and she felt much more inclined to speak openly with him.

"The Gramaryes…I'd help them if I could, Mr. Gavin…but I don't know what you mean, exactly."

"Well, Vera, I am what you would call a defense attorney, and I am helping out Zak Gramarye at the moment. He's gotten into a bit of trouble, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn't assist him?" He leaned forward, pulling a sheet of paper from the inside of his jacket. "That's why I want to make sure I have the best chance to make everything right with Zak. And this is where you come in." He tapped the paper, and Vera shifted herself so that she could see what was written on it. It appeared to be a note of some kind, penned in a swirly handwriting that she had never seen before.

As she looked it over, Kristoph surveyed her seriously. "Do you think you could use this as a reference to create an entirely new letter, Vera?" She blinked yet again. "This is very important, you understand. It might be a little different than what you are used to doing, but you must tell me you are capable of reproducing this handwriting."

"I…" She fiddled with the edge of her drawing pad, still staring at the note. "I…I want to ask my father first."

"No!" Kristoph's sudden outburst made Vera jump. He composed himself quickly, flicking his hair over his shoulder with his free hand. "Eh…I'm sorry. I just…I want to keep this between us, alright? As a favor to Zak and the Gramaryes…I don't want too many people to know about this. You said you would help them no matter what, yes?" He narrowed his eyes, waiting for her response.

After a beat, Vera nodded reluctantly. "Alright. But only because I trust you and the Gramaryes…and I…I want to help any way I can."

"Wonderful," he said, handing her the note and another sheet of paper. This new sheet was written in what she assumed to be Kristoph's handwriting. Comparing the two, she saw that the first sheet was signed "Magnifi Gramarye" in swooping letters. "Mr. Gavin, is this…"

"Mentor to both Zak and Valant, and Thalassa's father. Of course." Kristoph smiled once more. Vera felt a bit better about the whole thing – maybe she had just imagined that little outburst. He was so charming, so kind, and yet…why did she still feel just the slightest bit strange?

"You really needn't concern yourself with the specifics of this case. Just know that if you reproduce this letter in Magnifi's handwriting, you'll be doing a great service to me and the Gramaryes. It'll be like…" Light glinted off Kristoph's glasses as he looked up once again, searching for the right words. "Like our own little magic trick." He grinned at her again.

Vera giggled happily at his statement – a tinkling, genuine laughter. If anything, Mr. Gavin was certainly a suave fellow. "I'll be glad to help…Mr. Gavin. I want to help you and the Gramaryes, like you said. I just…" She began to bite her fingernails at the thought of her next question. "I won't have to deliver this to you myself, will I? I…I don't like to go outside."

"Oh no, my dear girl," said Kristoph in a reassuring tone. "You won't have to. Your father has been kind enough to have it sent to me through the mail. You won't have a need to go outside. Though if you do have to one day and are afraid to do so…" He dug in his jacket once more, bringing out a crystal bottle filled with a clear liquid. The bottle itself was shaped like a woman's hand, the fingers thin and tapered. "This will protect you. I promise."

"Ariadoney nail polish!" Vera's mouth dropped wide open, her eyes twinkling. "Is this…for me?"

Nodding, Kristoph passed the bottle to her, watching slyly as she turned it around in her hands. "I heard you like nail polish, too. And like I said – this is a good luck charm. If you put it on before you go outside, you'll be fine…protected from anything that might scare you or cause you harm."

"Really? I…" Vera set the bottle down on the table, opening up her sketchbook. "I…don't know how to thank you, Mr. Gavin."

"Well, your work for me will be enough thanks," he said, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. She smiled, finally comfortable in his company. First the Troupe Gramarye, and now Ariadoney nail polish. Kristoph appeared to know all of the tricks in getting Vera to open up to him.

She smiled again, setting to work with her pencil. "I want to start right now! But Father will be so happy to see my gift…he knows I love nail polish. I'll have to show him."

At this, Kristoph's expression changed for a split second, his eyes flashing dangerously as he pushed his glasses up his nose. A jolt went through Vera as she saw, fleetingly, something on the back of Kristoph's hand. The veins had bunched together and had created the image of…something. But now it was gone. Surely she was just seeing things…

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Vera. You see, the good luck charm will wear off if you tell anyone about it. Your father wouldn't begrudge you a bottle of nail polish, now would he?"

"N-no, I don't think so…" Vera stammered. "But I very rarely get gifts from anyone besides him…surely he'd—"

"I said it's _not_ a good idea," Kristoph said forcefully, blonde locks of hair falling across his face. He pushed his glasses up his nose once more, and this time Vera saw it as clear as day – the devil's own face, etched across the back of his hand. Its teeth were bared, it was glaring right at her—

She let out a squeak of fear, and immediately set to scribbling on her drawing pad. It was an unconscious action, almost second nature to her – drawing was her escape, and she took to it whenever she was frightened or unsure of something. Luckily, Kristoph did not seem to think much of her behavior and settled back into his chair, resting his scarred hand on the armrest.

"We _are_ clear on this, correct? Vera?"

Her head jerked up at the use of her name, and she nodded slowly (why had she been nodding so much today?), swallowing hard. "Y-yes, Mr. Gavin. I'll…I'll prepare the note for you. And I won't tell Father about this meeting, or about your gift. Th-thank you, by the way."

"Think nothing of it," replied Kristoph, and there he was back to his friendly, amiable self once more. He clasped his hands together, waiting for Vera to say more. However, she was still scribbling on her drawing pad, glancing at the two sheets of paper every now and then.

"So you're working on them now, are you?"

She nodded briskly, her pencil working furiously before the image left her mind. She drew like this for quite some time until Kristoph decided that he had said enough, and stood up.

"Well then. Would you tell your father to send me the copy at this address?" He slipped her a small card that she absently tucked behind the page she was drawing on in her sketchbook. The sound of her pencil scratching the paper filled the air, and Kristoph was finally curious enough to peer over her shoulder.

"What _are_ you…"

"N-Nothing. Just practicing." He leaned over to see that she was copying Maginifi's diary entry word for word and in the same swirly handwriting. He could not tell the two apart even if he tried. He clapped Vera on the shoulder again with his scarred hand, and she glanced from the back of the hand up to his face. He was beaming, even as another wave of fear washed over her. What was going on here? Was this man an angel or a devil?

Whatever he was, the image she was now immortalizing on paper would remind her.

"Well, as I said…give that card to your father, and…" He paused to look back at her once more. "Remember that our gift is a secret, as well as our helping the Gramaryes. Don't disappoint me, Vera." She winced at these words as he turned towards the door.

"Drew, I'll be leaving now," he called towards the kitchen area.

Vera heard a quick thumping noise that signaled her father running from the back of the living room, which happened to be on the other side of the house. He had truly made himself scarce during their "meeting." She sighed – why did he have to be so strange during times like this? As they were saying their (very brief) goodbyes, Vera took the time to flip back to what she had been working on a few moments beforehand, erasing any extra lines and finishing the details.

The soft click of the door relieved Vera – he was finally gone. She ripped her version of Magnifi's diary page out of her sketchbook, placing it in the pile that contained the original diary page and Kristoph's "addition." She would finish those all in good time. But first she had to hide the bottle of nail polish – the last thing she needed was a suspicious Drew on her back.

Tucking the nail polish into a cupboard by her easel, she settled into the plush chair by the lamp, pulling out some of her paints to do some watercolors before she went to bed. Drew came over to talk with her, a tired expression on his face.

"I'm assuming everything went well with…Mr. Gavin?"

"Yes…" She paused. She wanted so badly to tell him what had happened, to have him comfort her…but she just could not bring herself to do it. Kristoph's words rang in her ears, all the more soothing and confident. The magical power of her lucky "charm"…no, she could not risk telling her father anything.

But…the picture she had just finished…maybe her father would understand.

"He wants you to send what I'm writing to this address," she said abruptly, fishing around in her pocket for the small business card. "Oh, wait, it's…probably in my sketchpad." She nodded towards where she had left it on the other chair in the room.

Drew looked at her curiously, picking up the sketchpad in question and flipping through to find the card. It fell from between the pages along with a page of the sketchbook that had become loose somehow – and there was something drawn on it. With the card in one hand, Drew examined the page closely, gasping at the likeness that stared back at him.

Kristoph Gavin glared out of the page at Drew, his eyes narrowed maliciously and his right hand pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. But the ferocity of his expression did not come close to matching the devil that seemed to jump from the back of his hand – the bulging veins formed its "head" and a scar made up the sharp ridges of its teeth. It was a horrifying drawing, and there was no doubting who or what it depicted. In the lower right-hand corner, Vera had drawn a small question mark, followed by her usual signature.

Drew stared at the drawing for quite some time, the edge of the paper becoming crumpled in his hand from his tight grip. He looked at Vera, and then just as quickly, crumpled the paper completely and tossed it into the nearby waste basket. Vera looked down quickly, embarrassed by her father's treatment of her "message."

Just like she thought…he had not understood…

"I don't know what you're getting at, Vera, but I don't like these types of drawings," he flustered once more. "I also don't know why you would go about with this…this caricature of someone as helpful as Mr. Gavin. Surely he didn't mistreat you?"

She shook her head, pursing her lips and sniffing. "I'm sorry, Father…you're right…I'll finish the work like he asked." She placed her paints on the table and picked up her other papers, retreating to her room quietly.

Vera shut the door rapidly behind her, slumping against it as tears trickled down her face. So many conflicting thoughts and feeling were jostling for prominence in her mind, and she could not even count on her father to assure her of Kristoph's intentions when she was apparently helping him out so much with this work. Her "talent," he called it. He said that it was the best way that he could help them both, yet he would not even listen to her when she was unsure of herself. All he cared about, it seemed, was her drawing and creating…things for his "clients." It upset her at times, but she did it anyway.

After a few moments, Vera had collected herself. She sat up, wiping away her tears with the back of her sleeve and setting up her easel in the center of her room. She set to work purposefully on the project that Kristoph had assigned her – he had giver her the good luck charm after all, and with her father's dismissal of her drawing, she knew where her loyalties lay. Mr. Gavin had to be right…she was forgetting even now her glimpses of his more terrifying nature and thinking only of his warm smile and soft eyes. With every letter that she copied from Magnifi's note, she felt more confident with her decision. She would help her father and the Gramaryes, just like he had said…no matter what her decision might bring. And she would have her good luck charm – forever and always.

As Vera drew, the man who had left their studio only moments before chuckled heartily to himself, walking with a wolfish smile across his face and the image of the devil on the back of his hand.


End file.
